Behind The Veil of Lies
by LyraAdriana
Summary: Is the Veil in the Department of Mysteries all that strait forward. Hermione thinks theres more to it, is she right? Read to find out more!
1. Proloug

Behind The Veil of Lies

Proloug

People toss around phrases like "Life Sucks" or "God is Punishing me", but I think that if you have food in your belly, a roof over your head, and a guarantee of living the next day, then life doesn't really suck at all. Life won't begin to suck until the only thing you have to eat in three days was a turkey sandwich (which used to be a button from your coat, which is, coincidentally, the only roof over your head at night), and your in the middle of a raging battle where you don't know if you'll be alive in the next five minutes. Friends, family, acquaintances, all dying around you, while you, you never truly get over the shock as the first, second or even twelfth person gets their soul fire extinguished. The only thing running though your head is "That could have been me, that will be me. Thats going to happen to me." Before the fact, you imagine your self being heroic, saving kittens and little children from burning trees, but once you're there, there are no heroes, only people, people trying to survive, obeying that one solid animal instinct. Because that's the only heroic thing, not giving up, chugging along till the next day, with the one thought in mind; "We have Harry Potter, we will prevail. Our 'Hero' will save us all."


	2. An Age of Dissaperences

Behind The Veil of Lies

Chapter One: An Age of Dissaperences

"We have Harry Potter, we will prevail. Our 'Hero' will save us all."

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Sleep teased Hermione that night. Like one of Crookshanks's cat toys, it danced just out of her reach. She had been fighting like a drone all day, finally breaking away, only to fall back and become staff in the medical tents. Neville sensing that she was going to drop from exhaustion at any moment forced her into the back to lay down on a cot and get some sleep. Which leaves us back at where we started.

Hermione turned over to look up at the celing of the tent. The shadows that were made and pictured there seemed to tell a story, like an epic-made for television-movie. She closed her eyes, shaking the images out of her head. This was ridiculous. Obviously she wasn't getting any sleep, and she could be better use elsewhere. The lay-down had given her the second wind she needed. Hermione swung her legs over the side of the bed and shuddered at the ice cold ground. Her shoes were lying on their sides over by the water basin, seeming to laugh at her predicament. Grumbling she quickly hopped over to the basin, stupid of her to take her shoes off in the first place.

Hermione looked up at herself in the small mirror that was charmed to stick to the side of the tent. Her eyes were bloodshot and droopy, her hair was a mass of knots on top of her hair in what used to be a tight bun. She realised she looked like shit, she also realised it didn't matter. That fact though didn't stop her from rinsing her face of the residue from the day. Surprisingly when she was done, she felt a lot better. Like a weight had been lifted off of her back. . . well her face really. Hermione looked back up into the mirror contemplating herself. When she was a child her mother used to spit onto napkins to wipe dirt of her face. As best friend to Harry Potter, her muggle family was one of the first targeted by Voldemort. Hermione was devastated when she got the news of her mother and fathers deaths. They had always been so supportive of her and her strange powers. Her being a witch got them killed. It made her more determined then ever to become the best witch she could be, and to help in whatever way she could with the downfall of Voldemort.

Hermione shook her head again and exhailed quickly the breath she had been holding.

"Come on Hermione you wuss. You've got a battle to fight. No use standing here and talking to you self. Now go save lives."

"Yeah Granger, because talking to yourself will really get it done quicker."

Hermione tensed but didn't turn around.

"Malfoy. May I inquire as to why your here."

"I wasn't aware that I needed a personal invitation to the Medical tent."

"You don't. I was just curious. I thought that you would be needed elswere, fighting for good, sacrafising babies or putting kittens up trees."

"Oh right. Thank-you. I knew there was something I was forgetting to do. Chrookshanks around anywhere?"

"Like you're going to get any where with in a ten foot radius of him."

"So he tried to scratch my eyes out one time. Your going to hold that against me for the rest of my life."

"I'm hoping I wont know you long enough to."

"Ouch."

Hermione turned around stifly, eyes like a blazing inferno. Glowing enough to light the darkened area, or set Malfoys head on fire. Whichever she set her mind to.

"Hows Harry?"

"Last I saw him he was grabbing a bite at the Dairy Queen. Either that, or it was his bloody mangled corps I stepped in on my way over here."

"Malfoy. . ."

"How am I bloody well supposed to know. I'm not his keeper."

"You were told to keep an eye on him. It's called responsebility Malfoy."

"Why can't his pet weasel do it?"

"You're one to talk Ferret!"

"Now that was below the belt there."

Hermione reached quickly inside her robes to her holstier. Grabbing her wand fast and pointing it directly at Malfoys smug face.

"Woah there Mustang. Remeber, were fighting the same war, same side might I remind you."

"As much as it pains me to admit it, Ferret boy has a point there. Lets finnish this thing first, and then you can have all the fun you want."

Hermione's and Malfoys heads whipped around to the sound of another Weasley voice. Hermione tucked her wand back into her robe reluctantly while gumbling incoherently.

"Right Ginny. Like your one to talk about controling yourself. You take the fiery readhead stereotype to another level." Hermione hugged her young friend and kissed her forhead in a motherly manner.

"It was just that one time I hit Malfoy. And those... pudding... flying... incidents. But come on. Where Malfoys concerned controling yourself has a totally different meaning."

Hermione nodded a few times.   
"Too true."

Malfoy waved his hands in front of their faces.

"I'm sorry but can you not see me any more. I'm right here, and well I'm not deaf."

Hermione looked at him with one eye brow raised. (Perfected from years of experiance on Harry and Ron)

"Remember Ferret. The rules are different with you. Were alowed to talk like your not there. Because to us, your not."

With that Ginny and Hermione turned and walked into the main part of the tent. Malfoy shook his head and headed over to the mirror.

"Great. You spend seven years as the "Ice Man Slytherine Prince" and this is what you get? Totaly not what they promised in the contract. The helth benefits were good, but still all the shunning. They need to put a warning label on it or something."

"Remind me again, what were you saying about talking to youself?"

Malfoy stopped gazing at his reflection and turned around.

"And what happend to ignoring me?"

"I'm done for now. Come out here I need you to look at something."

Malfoy grinned and winked.

"I know you want me Granger but don't you think this kind of thing should be done in privet. Not in front of 20 sick dillerious patients?"

Hermione groned and rolled her eyes, grabbing Malfoy's sleeve and pulled him into the sick room. She dragged then him over to the corner where Ginny was crouching inspecting a lump on the ground.

"I was checking over one of the captured Death Eaters. His Dark Mark, it's dissapearing."

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AN: Thanks for reading. I was going to make it longer, but it seemed like a good place to stop. Let me know in your reviews please what I should improve or not. No flamers please, but I do accept constructive critasism.

Thank-you and good night.


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